Back Doctor Aphra
Chapters (57)
  1. Cover
  2. Doctor Aphra
  3. DRAMATIS PERSONAE
  4. SCENE 1
  5. SCENE 2
  6. SCENE 3
  7. SCENE 4
  8. SCENE 5
  9. SCENE 6
  10. SCENE 7
  11. SCENE 8
  12. SCENE 9
  13. SCENE 10
  14. SCENE 11
  15. SCENE 12
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  17. SCENE 14
  18. SCENE 15
  19. SCENE 16
  20. SCENE 17
  21. SCENE 18
  22. SCENE 19
  23. SCENE 20
  24. SCENE 21
  25. SCENE 22
  26. SCENE 23
  27. SCENE 24
  28. SCENE 25
  29. SCENE 26
  30. SCENE 27
  31. SCENE 28
  32. SCENE 29
  33. SCENE 30
  34. SCENE 31
  35. SCENE 32
  36. SCENE 33
  37. SCENE 34
  38. SCENE 35
  39. SCENE 36
  40. SCENE 37
  41. SCENE 38
  42. SCENE 39
  43. SCENE 40
  44. SCENE 41
  45. SCENE 42
  46. SCENE 43
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  53. SCENE 50
  54. SCENE 51
  55. SCENE 52
  56. SCENE 53
  57. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Ah, I see! I was also a product of the good Sir Tarkin’s Initiative, and so am entirely fluent with all internal test languages. That is a wonderful plan, Mistress Aphra!

APHRA:

Then get this dumpy gunboy up and about.

TRIPLE-ZERO:

Ahem, allow me to access the correct language processor…

BLEEP! BLEEP BLEEP!

Beetee whirs to life.

BEETEE:

BLEEP! BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP!

Beetee arms himself, weapons engaging and unfolding, flames shooting from his ports.

APHRA (narration):

What did I just say about loving blastomechs? Maybe I should take that back. Because as soon as this wee homicidal maniac whirred to life, his first action was to deploy his many, many weapons—they unfurled from every part of him like he was some kind of fancy rebel army knife.

And then he started shooting flames out of his little ports…

TRIPLE-ZERO:

No, BT-1! No, you can’t possibly do that! They are our masters!

Vader draws his lightsaber.

TRIPLE-ZERO:

Also, who would clean up the mess?

APHRA (narration):

Well…great. Murderous droid, meet murderous lord of the Empire.

Lucky for me and my ship, Triple-Zero managed to have a serious bonding moment with Beetee…or at least that’s what I assume happened, because after Trip blurted out all that nonsense, my dearest deadly blastomech disengaged his weapons and powered down. At least for the moment.

Leaving me to bond with his lordliness!

I slid to the floor, drew my knees to my chest, and let my head rest on my folded arms.

I’d had a day.

APHRA:

Well. That’s another activation survived.

But who am I talking to? This must be a quiet day for you, Lord Vader.

Fitting in a meeting with me before getting back to your busy schedule of applying a jackboot to the throat of the young rebels, eh?

DARTH VADER:

You are… overly fond of speaking.

APHRA:

I’m nervous. I make my living reactivating weapons like this pair…and you make me nervous. There’s something about tall, dark, and able-to-kill-me guys that make a girl nervous.

What do you want from me?

DARTH VADER:

There was a time when I had armies at my beck and call. That time has passed. I need resources of my own. Private resources.

APHRA (narration):

I’d heard the gossip, of course—that Vader had been…not exactly disgraced. But definitely demoted within the Empire after the rebels destroyed the Death Star. But, y’know, he’s Darth Vader. I just assumed that…well, if he even existed, something like that was a temporary setback, like getting detention, and he’d be back to full dark lordliness in no time.